


grant no clemency

by crackthesky



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kindness, Multi, Vulnerability, but i like to hedge my bets, no beta we die like men, rating is for a hint of smut so tiny it barely even counts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crackthesky/pseuds/crackthesky
Summary: the outside world is cruel, you know. and sometimes it is worse to have tasted kindness and return to such malice.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	grant no clemency

You begin to wonder if he thinks of kindness as a punishment. 

Perhaps for him, it is only ever a glimpse of what is unlasting; brief moments of belonging that inevitably fade into the type of hatred made sharp with fear’s keen edge. That he will only ever receive kindness so that one day he may know its loss.

Some part of Geralt desires kindness, you know. You can see it in the way his broad shoulders loosen when you smile at him as he rides up, your lips curving slow and sweet like the rising sun, a warm promise of the daylight to come; in the faint tilt of his head as you hum quietly behind him in the bath, his sturdy frame nestled between your legs as you weave his damp hair into intricate braids; in the way his breath catches between his teeth when you cradle his jaw, your thumb stroking over his cheek before you steal a soft kiss, lips feathering over his like gentle waves lapping at the shore. 

Geralt, though - Geralt kisses like a current, pulls you into the salt cradle of his mouth to consume you, his teeth like shells as they scrape against the tender side of your neck. It never takes him long to press your unbearable softness into something urgent and heated. You let the tide roll over you, bend to his fervor and let him sweep you out to sea, because of the two of you - you are not the one afraid of drowning.

Sometimes you can sneak beneath his skin and coax him to drink down the affection flowing from your tongue. In drowsy moments burrowed beneath blankets, his honey-gold eyes half-mast, your lips drifting over his neck like passing clouds, he gives way to you, lets you slice into him with vulnerability. Before Geralt, you had never known that tenderness could cut. You muffle your gasp in his neck as you shift your hips against him, feeling him thick inside you, moving soft and slow and tender.

It will fade when the sun rises, you know. Geralt will sew himself back up into a Witcher, into someone that does not want to need anyone. You will not change the words you say to him, or the fondness that warms your tone like spiced mead.

Geralt, you think, may consider kindness a punishment.

You will grant him no clemency from yours.

**Author's Note:**

> i was thinking about geralt and how strange kindness must seem to him sometimes. and i'm tired, and wanted to write someone being kind to him - my friends and i call certain types of kindness unyielding kindness, and that's what i was thinking of here - and so i did.
> 
> hopefully it's not as garbled as my brain is right now!


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